Pancake Day
by Hidden Treasures
Summary: The Doctor resumes an old and well-loved tradition from their days together on the TARDIS.
Rose was pleasantly surprised when she awoke in a warm and comfortable bed, and even more surprised to find the sun already up. These last few weeks usually found her in a cot in her office at Torchwood, catnapping to rejuvenate herself for another Cannon jump. Mickey or Pete must have taken her home.

She really ought to get up. There was work to be done, a universe to be saved, a Doctor to find. But she was so comfortable and felt better than she had in years.

Instead, Rose groaned as she rolled over and snuggled into the pillow beside her.

Five more minutes wouldn't hurt.

She nuzzled into the pillow and froze when she smelled faint traces of sandalwood and unscented soap and a spicy smell she never had a name for but one she associated with home.

Rose buried her face into the fabric of the pillowcase. Her brain must be playing tricks. She hadn't smelled that smell in years, it wasn't possible.

"Oh," she gasped out as her foggy brain cleared enough to provide her the memories of the past twenty-four hours.

She found the Doctor, they'd saved the universe, he'd left her…

 _No_ , her brain told her, _he didn't_.

She had a Doctor with her now. A human Doctor. A Doctor that told her he loved her and that he wanted to stay with her forever.

They'd gotten back to her flat late last night (or had it been early this morning?) and he had stayed with her when she'd asked. He'd held her just as tightly as she held him, and he told her once more that he loved her.

 _Then where was he?_

Rose looked around the room, but she was alone, and the sheets beside her were cold to the touch.

 _No, no, no_.

Rose sucked in a shaky breath and quickly threw the covers off of herself. _Please let him be in the sitting room, or the loo, or somewhere in her flat. Please let him be real._

The loo was empty, the spare bedroom was empty, the living room was empty, and with every passing empty room she came across, her panic increased until she felt she might throw up. She couldn't have dreamt him, could she?

Finally, just as tears threatened to fall from her eyes, Rose heard a very loud clang and muffled cursing coming from her kitchen. She whirled around the corner, grabbing onto the doorframe to keep her feet from slipping out from under her, and let out an almost-sob of relief when she saw the Doctor standing by the stove with his finger in his mouth. He looked so normal, standing in the kitchen of her flat with bedhead dressed in plain flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He was beautiful, and Rose's breath caught in her throat as she suddenly realized that she would get to see him like this every day for the rest of her life.

"Doctor?" she whispered, needing to see his face.

He whirled around and dropped his finger from his mouth as he grinned brightly. He was here, he was real. She didn't dream him, and he didn't leave, and _oh_ , how she'd missed that smile. The wide expanse of white teeth and the crinkle around his eyes and his slightly droopy eyelid and that wonky ear with the dent in it and the smattering of freckles that made him look so much younger than she knew him to be.

"Hello!" he greeted her brightly, looking at her in that way that always made her feel like she was the most important thing in the universe. "I was wondering when you'd get up. It nearly noontime! Can you believe that? I slept for nearly eight hours! The last time I did that was, well, after I regenerated. You remember, right? Christmas day, Sycorax, lost my hand in a swordfight. This hand, to be exact. You've got the original hand right here, Rose Tyler!" He raised his right hand and wiggled his fingers at her, and Rose's heart fluttered in her chest; he looked and sounded just like her Doctor, and _oh, how she had missed him._

The Doctor's brows furrowed slightly when she still had yet to say anything.

"Rose?"

He sounded nervous all of a sudden, and his mouth pinched in concern.

Her eyes burned and her lungs ached and she realized she was holding her breath. Rose inhaled and when she tried to breathe out, it sounded choked as the tears started falling.

Warm arms wrapped themselves around her and she was surrounded by a scent that was so distinctly _him_ that she burrowed closer. He was warmer than she'd ever felt him to be, but it was comforting, and the one heart beating beneath her ear didn't sound foreign, it was soothing.

"Rose, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"It's you," she gasped into his shirt. "It's really you."

"It's me," he said softly, pressing his lips to her hair. "I promise you, it's me. I'm still your Doctor. I'll always be your Doctor."

The Doctor rocked them gently from side to side, pressing his lips to the top of her head every few moments, and Rose shuddered at the intimacy of the moment. He really meant it, then. He loved her and wanted her.

"I woke up and you were gone," she said softly, feeling silly now about her near-panic attack.

"Oh, Rose," he murmured, holding her tighter. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think…I just… It's Sunday."

Rose leaned back slightly, keeping her arms around his waist as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

"Sunday?" she asked, confused by the non-sequitur.

"Mhm," he said, and he spun them ninty-degrees so that he could gesture to the stove. "Sunday. Pancake Day."

Rose finally saw the small stack of the breakfast food.

Years ago, the Doctor had taken her on a trip to the United States, trying to make up for missing the mark on their planned Elvis excursion. It was a beautiful trip. They managed to make it to an Elvis performance, and afterwards they played the part of tourist. They walked hand in hand through Central Park and saw the Statue of Liberty, and the Doctor insisted they needed to try out a hole-in-the-wall diner for an authentic American breakfast. She'd never had anything but toast or the occasional full English, and was confused by the thick stack of golden brown sweet bread that the waitress brought them. She was wary, but the Doctor promised she'd love it. After the first bite, Rose knew she had found a new favorite treat.

A few weeks after their trip, after the horrors of Krop Tor, the Doctor had surprised her one Sunday morning with breakfast in bed, and a plate of pancakes. It soon became tradition, and Sunday became Pancake Day and was how they started off their designated lazy lie-in day.

"Is this all right?"

Rose was broken from her reverie by the hesitance she heard in his voice. His jaw was tense and his eyes were wide, and Rose realized she'd been silent for too long.

"It's perfect," she assured him, leaning up on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his.

It was a quick kiss, nothing like the one they'd shared on the beach, but it was sweet and perfect, and Rose could definitely get used to this.

The Doctor's cheeks were slightly pink and his eyes looked a bit hazy and Rose couldn't help but notice with a thrill that he was still looking at her lips. She smiled shyly at him and slowly lifted up to press her lips to his once more. She kept the contact light, letting him make the next move.

He sighed softly as he wound his hand around the back of her neck, angling her head just right to deepen the kiss. It was tender and slow and it felt so good to kiss and be kissed like this. Their mouths moved gently against each other's. Rose sucked at his bottom lip as he sucked at her top lip. His lips were restless, sucking and pulling, releasing and catching, as though he couldn't get close enough.

His nose poked at her cheek as he tilted his head to the side so his tongue could tentatively slide over hers. Rose eagerly let him in, and he moaned softly as his tongue traced the contours of her mouth. She slipped her fingers into his hair and played with the soft tendrils, committing this moment to memory.

She gradually eased them out of the kiss, and she planted one last lingering kiss on his lips before she pulled back completely. She was breathless, and was pleased to see him panting softly too. She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed her face into his shoulder.

"I love you," she murmured into the soft fabric

"And I love you," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze.

They stood there for several long minutes, until the Doctor finally said, "Breakfast is getting cold."

"It'd be a shame to let them go to waste," she mused, finally loosening her grip and stepping away. She shivered when she lost the heat of his body, and then again when she saw his red and swollen lips and disheveled hair. "Buuut I suppose that's why I've got a microwave, don't you agree?"

She smiled teasingly at him, letting her tongue rest between her teeth. She watched his Adam's apple quiver as his eyes zeroed in on the corner of her mouth. He took half a step forward, and she met him the rest of the way.

She grunted as their lips forcefully met again. There was nothing slow and tender about this kiss. It was clacked teeth and clumsy tongues and wet spit and squished noses, but blimey did it feel good. Rose felt that familiar swooping in her belly as she tugged at his hair roughly, earning her a choked moan. She gasped her appreciation when his hands dropped to her bum, squeezing and kneading as he pulled her closer. She shuddered when she felt him hardening against her hip. She thrust her tongue into his mouth as she slotted one of her thighs between his legs and shifted so that one of his thighs was between hers.

He groaned and bucked his hips against hers when she scraped her nails against his scalp. His breathing turned ragged as he rubbed himself against her.

"Rose," he whimpered breathlessly. "Are you…is this…?"

"Yeah," she said, dropping her lips to his neck. His skin was flushed and tasted salty as she bit and licked and sucked at it, trying to pull more of those incredible noises from his mouth. She shivered as his hands cupped her bum, pulling her flush against him for better friction, but it wasn't quite enough.

She pulled her mouth away for just a moment and pressed her hands to his chest. She walked him backwards until she heard the solid thump of his back hitting the wall, and resumed her thorough exploration of his neck. He had a beautiful neck. It was so long and pale, and she loved watching the muscles work as he spoke or ate, and she loved feeling them flex now under her tongue.

"Rose, love," he moaned. The back of his head collided heavily with the wall as he arched his neck, giving her more room to work, and his hips moved restlessly against hers. "Rose, stop. Please."

Rose quickly released his neck, pleased to see the beginnings of a love bite that was sure to last for days.

"What? What is it?"

The Doctor's eyes were closed and his nostrils flared as he breathed raggedly for a moment. When he opened his eyes, Rose shuddered and rubbed her thighs together when she saw how dark they were.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice raw and thick. "Like actually ready? It's okay if you're not. I mean, you've had a bit of a shock, so I wouldn't–"

"Are _you_ ready?" she asked, wondering if this was too much too quickly. Just because he seemed to be enjoying it and just because it felt good didn't mean he wanted it. She backed away slightly to give him a bit of breathing room, worried that this was the part where he clammed up and ran off.

But she needn't have worried.

"Oh, yes," he growled, and the deep timbre sent chills down her spine until they settled low in her belly. "Oh, Rose, I've been wanting this for years."

Rose stepped back into his personal space.

"Me, too," she murmured, her voice sounding husky and needy even to her own ears.. "And while this has been nice, d'you think we should maybe take it somewhere else? I've got a nice big bed just down the hall."

As she spoke, she traced her fingernail lightly across his chest, scraping at his puckered nipple through his shirt. He shuddered and caught her hand, moving it out of the way so he could lock his lips with hers once more. He bit and nipped and sucked at her tongue, and Rose moaned when she imagined all of the other places she would like to see (feel) his mouth work.

"Bed," she said breathlessly, grabbing his wrist and leading him to her bedroom.

The stack of pancakes the Doctor had made sat on the countertop for hours, and later that night, Rose learned that pancakes were versatile and worked as a dinner food, and that they did, in fact, heat up nicely.


End file.
